


Sequelish Thing to Shift and Slide

by coreopsis



Category: Alkaline Trio (Band), Bandom, The Used
Genre: AU, M/M, RPS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:24:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob goes on tour with The Used while Matt goes and does his own thing.  Makes more sense if you've read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/83370">Shift and Slide</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sequelish Thing to Shift and Slide

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually part of a much longer story that I decided to scrap and rewrite at some later date. But I thought this could stand on its own and I liked this part so I decided to post it.

"When did you get so hot?" Matt asks, slipping his hand down Bob's bare back as he sinks down onto the beach towel next to him. Bob was thinking about putting his shirt back on, but he's too happy with Matt's hand warm on his skin. He takes the soda Matt hands him and leans into Matt's touch.

"I've always been hot. You just didn't notice," Bob replies with a laugh. He's joking, of course, because he wasn't and isn't, and this conversation makes him uncomfortable so he laughs and hopes Matt laughs too. And then drops it.

"No, I did," Matt says, slow and contemplative. "It's just...you're different now."

"You've had sex with me." Bob only points this out because if there were going to be declarations of hotness, that's when they'd have been appropriate, not on a random Tuesday afternoon on the beach, a few weeks after they started sleeping together.

"Well, yeah, but everybody's hot when they're having sex," Matt says then he winces and adds, "Maybe not everybody."

Bob follows Matt's gaze to an older man with a huge beer belly and hair all over his back. He sees Matt's point and will never forgive him for the mental images he just unwillingly got, but before he can say so, he gets distracted by a woman in a bikini top that wasn't designed to hold all she's stuffed into it. "Holy shit, those do not occur in nature."

Matt laughs. "Welcome to LA, where nothing occurs in nature."

"They should put that in the tourist brochures," Bob says, moving his feet off the towel so he can dig his toes into the sand.

"They probably do. I've never seen a town so impressed with it's own superficiality."

"And yet you live here," Bob points out, digging his toes in a little deeper where the sand is cooler.

"I embrace my superficiality." Matt eyes a hot young guy and his equally sexy girlfriend and nods in their direction. "See them? I would do both of them. At the same time. It would be a delicious Matt-sandwich."

"Hey," Bob says, sharper than he meant to, and pokes Matt's leg.

Matt turns over onto his stomach and props up on his elbows so he can look at Bob and put the hot couple out of his line of sight. He smiles and raises his eyebrows above the top of his sunglasses. "It's okay, baby, you're still the hottest."

"Shut up, you asshole."

"You know..." Matt watches Bob with his head tilted like Bob is some kind of weird painting in a museum and he can't quite make out the full picture. "I don't think I've ever been with someone who called me an asshole when I complimented them. I mean, I've been called an asshole plenty, but mostly when I was being one, not when I called my boyfriend hot." Before Bob can reply, Matt says, "You don't think you're hot."

It's not a question, but Bob answers anyway. "I'm not. Shut up."

"How do you carry yourself with so much confidence and then..." Matt shakes his head and makes a frustrated noise. "Yeah, I don't get you sometimes."

Bob really has no idea what to say to that. It started out as a question that he can't answer anyway and ended up a statement that's as much about Matt as it is about him. He doesn't think he's any different, but Matt must see something Bob doesn't. He shrugs and looks away from Matt, out at the ocean. There are a few ships visible way out near the horizon, miles from shore and probably miles from each other.

"You probably need more sunblock," Matt says conversationally. And it's like he wasn't just analyzing Bob a moment ago.

"Yeah, probably," Bob says and reaches for the bottle. After he does his face and arms, Matt sits up and takes the bottle.

"Your back's getting a little pink," Matt says as he pours sunblock into one hand. He drops the bottle onto the towel and rubs his hands together, spreading the sunblock before smoothing it over Bob's shoulders and starts working his way down Bob's back.

Bob pushes his sunglasses on top of his head and cranes his neck to see over his shoulder. The sunblock stings his skin a little, but the pinkness doesn't look too bad. They can stay out a little while longer before he'll start worrying. He picks up the bottle to do his torso and legs when Matt reaches the top of his shorts and keeps going, pushing the tips of his fingers inside the waistband. "Whoa, watch it," Bob says, quietly so as not to draw attention to what Matt is doing. "We are in public, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, I just lost my head for a second there," Matt says, taking his hands completely away from Bob.

"It's because I'm so irresistible," Bob laughs.

"You are," Matt says with a shrug. He reaches up and puts Bob's sunglasses back on his face, patting his cheek before he pulls away. "So I was thinking of doing a solo album."

"Okay," Bob says, unfazed by the change of subject. If anyone else in a band said that, it would lead to questions about whether the band is breaking up. But this is Matt, who seems incapable of not making music. He's always got a side project going, just to keep his hand in between tours and albums. He deals with everything through music--no matter if he's grieving or falling in love or just reads a particularly interesting story in the newspaper, he writes a song about it. Matt confessed to Bob once when he was very high, one night years ago back in Chicago, that if he couldn't make music he would die, and although Bob had been extremely drunk himself, he remembered thinking that was probably just Matt being melodramatic. But music is undeniably important to Matt. "You certainly have enough material."

"Yeah." Matt leans into Bob's arm, and Bob can almost feel the anticipation pulsing under his skin. "You know what I don't have?"

"What?" Bob asks, playing along although he can see where this is going.

"A drummer."

Bob takes a long drink of his soda and then puts the top back on so sand doesn't get in it. "Okay."

"I'm asking you to be my drummer," Matt explains helpfully.

"Yeah, I got that. And I'm saying yes." Bob looks at Matt and says witheringly, "Did you really think I was going to say no?"

"I thought I'd at least have to persuade you to do it through the cunning use of blowjobs."

"In that case, maybe I do need convincing after all."

"Hey, it got you to the beach so it's got a one hundred percent success rate so far."

"Lucky you don't ask for much."

"Yeah, I'd never get anything else done."

"And I'd probably be dead."

"But with a smile on your face."

"As long as you're not conceited about it or anything."

"That's not conceit, my friend. That's confidence." Matt gives Bob a filthy grin and gets back to business. "I figured you'd have to think about it because I know Brian Schechter called you about doing that tour with The Used."

"I'm definitely doing it," Bob says because he realizes he never told Matt that he said yes. "But it's only a couple months. When did you need me in the studio?"

"I haven't booked the time yet. I can work around your schedule and my band's got some dates coming up. Just a short tour up the west coast and a few shows in Canada."

"So we're going to be on the road at the same time then."

"Uh huh. Not gonna forget about me, are you? Start picking up groupies to ease the loneliness of life on tour?"

Bob snorts at that bit of ridiculousness. "I'd fuck Jepha before I'd fuck a groupie."

"So Jepha's my competition?"

"No, I don't want to fuck Jepha either. I'm just saying--" Bob breaks off when Matt starts laughing. "I changed my mind. Maybe I will start fucking groupies."

"Don't fuck groupies, Bob," Matt says seriously then he cracks up laughing again.

"Now I'm going to call you an asshole because you are one." Bob pushes him over into the sand but that doesn't make Matt calm down any faster. Bob just sighs at what a dork his boyf--what the fuck, Matt called Bob his boyfriend and Bob was just thinking the same thing.

Apparently the look on Bob's face at the realization that they are not just friends who fuck is enough to shut Matt up. He sits up and brushes sand off his arms, watching Bob carefully through his sunglasses. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Bob says slowly, drawing the word out until he believes it. "I just realized I can be a little slow sometimes."

"What are you being slow about?" Matt asks, moving closer until his thigh is pressed against Bob's. Bob can feel grains of sand transferring onto his skin from Matt's shorts, reminding him of why he doesn't like the beach.

Bob doesn't want to say 'you' so he shrugs. "Just, you know, stuff. Don't worry about it. It's not important."

"If you say so," Matt says, sounding skeptical, but he lets it drop when Bob doesn't say anything else. He smirks at Bob and raises his eyebrows over the edge of his sunglasses and says, "We should go home so I can play connect the dots with all the new freckles you got today."

"As long as you don't use a Sharpie," Bob says, surreptitiously dragging his fingertips up the side of Matt's thigh. Matt laughs and makes no promises.

 

***

Matt thrusts into him so slowly that Bob feels like he's going to snap if he doesn't get more now. He lifts his face from the pillow and says, "Speed up."

"Patience," Matt says breathlessly and pushes in another _millimeter_.

"Fuck patience," Bob snaps and then pushes back onto Matt's cock and adds, "And fuck me."

"Oh, fine," Matt says sounding oddly exasperated for someone having sex and shoves all the way in. He drapes himself over Bob's back and nuzzles the back of his head. "This is it for a while, so I'm trying to make it last, motherfucker."

"Try to make it last while _moving_," Bob says and tries to lift his hips off the bed. His fingers are gripping the headboard so hard they're about to cramp and Matt is still just lying on his back, licking his neck. It feels good, but it could feel so much better. "Please?"

"Not fair. You know I can't resist that." Matt bites the back of Bob's neck sharply, then raises up to his knees and says, "Hold on tight."

Bob adjusts his grip on the headboard to ease the strain on his fingers and spreads his legs wider, and then Matt grabs his hips tightly and just goes for it. He slams into Bob hard and sets up a quick rhythm and it's fucking perfect. Perfect fucking. Bob would laugh at that thought if he wasn't too caught up in trying not to come too soon. He appreciates Matt wanting it to last because he's not ready for it to be over either, but the urge to come is driving him closer and closer. When Matt curls a hand around Bob's cock, it's pretty much over for Bob. The added sensation pushes him right over the edge and he comes with a gasp and a shudder.

Matt groans and gives a couple more rough thrusts, and then he goes stiff and still as he comes. He collapses onto Bob's back with a drawn out sigh and says quietly, "Fuck, I'm gonna miss you."

"Yeah," Bob agrees but it's muffled by the pillow. Matt's body is pressing his down into the mattress of Matt's bed and he should feel trapped and claustrophobic, but it's actually really soothing. He's going to miss this connection the most while they're both off on their separate tours.

Matt pulls out carefully, and while he goes into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, Bob rolls over onto his back so he can breathe easier. His eyes slip closed but he's not sleepy. He just feels really...peaceful. That's new. His previous lovers made him feel a myriad of things, but peace was never one of them. Bob realizes that he never took much comfort from them. He got that from his friends instead. Matt is the best of both.

Bob doesn't open his eyes when Matt comes back and cleans him off. He does smile a little though, and Matt slides into bed next to him and wraps his arms around Bob's middle, saying, "I know you're still awake."

"Yeah, so?" Bob says and brings one arm up around Matt's shoulders. He cracks one eye open so he can see Matt smile when he ruffles Matt's hair. "Maybe I don't want to go to sleep yet."

"Your flight leaves pretty early though," Matt says, rubbing his hand in circles over Bob's chest. A callused fingertip catches on a nipple, sending tiny sparks of pleasure across Bob's skin.

"I can sleep on the plane." Bob traces the ink on Matt's upper arm, scratching over the words Dance With Me lightly with his thumbnail--it's pretty telling that he knows exactly where they are without even looking. LAX to Tampa is a long flight, so he'll have more than enough time to rest.

"Well, I'm exhausted and I have to drive down to San Diego tomorrow, so--" Matt breaks off and yawns so wide his jaw cracks.

Bob pets his arm and kisses the top of his head and says, "Go to sleep."

***

"Skiba called and warned me about you," says Jepha the day after the first show of the tour, when he sees Bob hanging around outside of the bus while Bert and Quinn are off doing an interview. The Florida sunshine beats down on him just hard as it did in LA, but it feels different in some way that Bob can't quite put his finger on.

"Yeah?" Bob asks around the cigarette he's currently smoking. "What'd he say? I need to know if I have to kill him or if just an ass-kicking will do."

"Oh, the usual. That you'll probably be after my fine ass, so I should guard my virtue." Jepha sits down on the sidewalk next to Bob and sneaks a cigarette out of the pack lying on the pavement by Bob's feet. He lights it with his own lighter and blows a stream of smoke toward the sky.

"That's usual for you, is it?" Bob asks, feeling a bit skeptical. Jepha's all right, but he doesn't exactly inspire out-of-control lust, not in Bob anyway. Jepha nods, and Bob says, "Well, your ass is safe from me. And I doubt you have any virtue left, but whatever."

"So what's up with you and Skiba?" Jepha does not look at Bob, but stares at the end of his cigarette like the embers hold the secrets of the universe.

"Matt thinks he's funny," Bob says and knows that doesn't answer the question. He and Matt never really got around to discussing who it was okay to tell.

"Uh _huh_," Jepha says thoughtfully and Bob knows he's drawing his own conclusions. He makes a mental note to call Matt when he's got some semblance of privacy so they can figure this shit out. He doesn't want to fuck up anything for Matt--or fuck up what he has with Matt.

Before he can pursue the question of Bob's relationship with Matt any further, Jepha is distracted by Bert showing up and making grabby hands at Bob's cigarettes. Bob sighs and says, "You can have one this time, but go easy, man, it's my last pack."

This is not true since Matt bought Bob a carton as a going away present, but no way is Bob letting these fuckers know he's got nearly a full carton stashed in his bunk.

***

Bob does not have a non-working minute alone until he crawls into his bunk sometime around midnight. He punches Matt's number on speed dial and curls around his pillow, waiting. Matt answers on the second ring and says, "You'll be glad to know I finally got a new phone today."

"I am. Go you, being a functional adult," Bob says dryly. If Matt had just listened to him in the first place, he wouldn't have gone through so much frustration with his current phone. Bob has no tolerance for crap electronics or anything else that doesn't work right. He replaces that shit as soon as possible. "Besides warning Jepha about me, how was your day?"

"Nothing beats warning Jepha about you, but it was good. I picked up Danny from the airport and we had dinner with some friends." Matt pauses and Bob can tell he's got something else to say so he just makes a questioning noise and waits. "Dan's staying in your room until we leave tomorrow."

"Okay?" Bob shrugs even though Matt can't see him. "It's your house. You can have anyone stay there you want."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

Matt pauses and that's weird because he's not a hesitant person in general. If there's a problem, he usually just spits it out. Bob asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Matt says quickly, then pauses again. Bob makes an exasperated noise and Matt says, "Okay, okay. I moved all your stuff out."

"Of your house?" Bob did not yelp. He's not a guy who yelps, so that question came out even and calm and he'll punch anyone who says differently. He sticks his head outside his curtain to make sure the bus is still deserted. It is, so he relaxes back into his bunk.

"No, out of your room," Matt is saying soothingly. "I put it all in my room. You were mostly sleeping there anyway, and neither one of us are going to be home for a while."

"I'll look for a place as soon as I get back," Bob says, realizing he's put his apartment hunt off for way too long. He was only supposed to stay with Matt for a few days, maybe a week while he found a place, but then stuff happened and he just never got around to doing it.

"Why?"

"So you can have your house back, dude."

"I don't want my house back," Matt says, in the calming voice one uses on a crazy person, which Bob almost finds insulting but not really. "I like having you there. How am I going to climb into the shower with you if you live across town?"

"Nice. You just want a shower buddy," Bob says with a laugh that's more than half relief.

"Oh baby, that's not all," Matt says all deep and seductive, making Bob laugh again.

"I am not having phone sex with you on The Used tour bus. It's only been a couple days. Suck it up."

"I'd rather suck you," Matt says, still trying to sound sexy and the annoying thing is that it's starting to work. Bob still doesn't want to have phone sex right now, but he's definitely planning on jerking off before he goes to sleep and he'll be thinking about Matt's voice when he does it.

Somewhere in the background, Bob hears Dan very clearly yell, "Damn it, Matt!"

Horrified, Bob slaps a hand over his face and groans. "You've been having this conversation right in front of Dan?"

"No, he just walked in the room--" Matt raises his voice and adds, "without knocking!"

There's the distant sound of a slamming door and Matt laughs. "He'll get over the trauma. He's heard and _seen_ much worse. There was this one time in Germany--"

"Stop right there. Ask yourself if I really need to hear this right now."

Matt sighs and says, "No, you probably don't."

"Okay then," Bob says, slightly relieved and yet suddenly just a little curious about whatever happened in Germany. He shakes it off because Matt will just tell him some other time anyway and asks, "Did you tell him? About me...us?"

"Yes. Should I not have? I tell him everything, even things he probably doesn't want to hear," Matt says and Bob can just imagine the worried look on his face.

"No, it's all right," Bob rushes to assure him, because he may not tell people all the intimate details of his life, but it's not like he's ashamed or anything. "It's just, we never talked about it. Who to tell, who to keep it from."

"I don't mind. As long as you don't tell my family before I do or give an interview to AP or Rolling Stone."

"But I can talk to Blender and Spin? Awesome."

"They were examples, whatever, you bitch."

"Keep calling me names and I won't put out."

"You already won't put out," Matt says all frustrated and exasperated. "I just want some motherfucking phone sex."

"Sorry," Bob says as he hears people coming onto the bus--talking and laughing and moving around. "Listen, the guys are coming back so I gotta go."

"First hotel night you get, we are having phone sex," Matt says and it almost sounds like a threat which strikes Bob funny.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do," Bob says when he stops laughing enough to speak. Someone knocks on the wall by his curtain, as he says, "Talk to you tomorrow."

After he clicks off his phone and shoves it under his pillow, he pulls back the curtain to find Jepha staring blearily at him. Reminding Bob of the other thing he'd wanted to talk to Matt about. "You should have come out with us, Bob."

"I will next time," Bob says and starts to pull the curtain shut.

But before he can, Jepha leans down and, in what he probably thinks is a whisper, says, "Did you have a phone date with your boyfriend?"

"Bob has a boyfriend?" Dan asks with interest and then Bert and Quinn are gathered around as well.

"Anyone we know?" Bert asks and Bob shakes his head because Matt might not care but Bob likes to keep his private stuff private when he can.

Jepha says, "Oh, is it supposed to be a secret?"

Bob groans and pulls his pillow over his head, but then Bert tries to climb into the bunk with him and Bob has to shove him out onto the floor and there's a lot of drunken chaos and laughter and Brian pops up out of nowhere like a fucking ninja and tells them the bus is about to start rolling.

"It's not a fucking secret. It's just none of your business," Bob says, grabbing Bert's arm when he tries to worm his way into Bob's bunk again. "Now stay out of my bunk before I drop you on your head."

Eventually, everyone drifts away to their own bunks and leaves Bob alone. He can hear whispering, but he tries to tune it out and go to sleep--no jerking off to the memory of Matt's voice for him, damn it all to hell.

He's just about to drift off when he hears Bert exclaim, "Skiba? Are you fucking serious?"

Jepha shushes him loudly and eventually they quiet down and go to sleep or pass out or whatever, but Bob suspects he hasn't heard the end of it.

 

The end (more or less :)


End file.
